A Wedding and Beyond: More than a happy ending
by EyeoftheEvenstar
Summary: Arianna and Luciano get a story devoted to their life together immediately following City of Flowers. I know it's been done before, but this one has a different spin than the others.
1. Chapter 1

The First Installment

This is my first time posting on this site -- please enjoy.

Overcome by his elation, Luciano swept the Duchessa off her feet and twirled her around. When he set her down again, her face was as radiant as the sun dancing on the silver waves encompassing the island of Torrone. He would have told her so, but it seemed too long-winded for such a breathless moment.

"Luciano," she whispered.

"What is it, your Grace?" he responded playfully. Her head was rested on his shoulder, and she smelled sweetly of Giglian perfume.

Arianna simply pointed down, to where her beautiful mask was strewn, absorbing what at best would be brown water.

It had seemed so romantic at the time, but now, as her head cleared , she realized the mistake of her fearless toss. She hadn't even noticed the gurgling sounds of water, so intent had she been on Luciano's smile.

"Arianna, of all places in Talia, why did you have to throw your mask into this filthy creek? We're right behind an inn! Goddess knows what slops are heaved in there every sundown!"

She looked up in surprise. As she hoped, Luciano's alarmed tone was matched by laughing eyes.

"Oh, well," she pouted. "I'll go back without it."

"I don't think so," he retorted. "Look at us. What will they think we've been doing?"

It was true. Luciano was covered in straw, some of which had passed to her lavender, cotton traveling dress. Her hair was tousled out of place, there was a mischievous, dreamy (or maybe relieved?) grin Luciano just couldn't seem to wipe off his face, and now – the Duchessa returning, unguarded, without a mask? Actually, any of that could have been possible if only her entourage occupied the inn – unfortunately, the locals had chosen this of all nights to have an drinking festival. She could see Luciano's point.

"You're right. You're not Duke of Bellezza yet." _Sadly_, her crestfallen tone implied.

Her mind was already hard at work; her arched brows knitted in concentration. She was, after all, the most powerful girl in her city-state, but that wouldn't excuse her from the inevitably harassing lecture on honor, duty, decency, respect, power, and diplomacy when her family saw the tattered hem of her dress. Sadly, she didn't see any other options. Luciano was watching her think, amused and content just to revel in her beauty.

"Alright, then. Luciano, close your eyes."

"Carrissima, that could put you in danger."

Arianna rolled her eyes and pushed him away before she pulled out her merlino dagger and cut out a strip of her petticoat. She grimaced at the awkwardness of having her skirt around her knees; it was the first time in her life as Duchessa she had ever wished for more layers of clothing.

Obviously, Luciano watched.

"Need some help?" Arianna was struggling to cut eye-holes in her makeshift mask.

"No! And–" she gasped. "You- you!" and swatted in his direction. She sighed. "Fine, then. Help me."

Luciano snorted. "The Duchessa? A damsel in distress? I would never have imagined."

"I'm not in any sort of distress. I'm just accepting aid in a menial task worthy of a laundry girl. Or, more fittingly perhaps, a Cavaliere of Bellezza."

By then, he had deftly slit the silky fabric and was tying it gently under what was left of her glossy, raven-colored up-do.

When he was done, he lightly brushed the loose curls to one side, away from her neck.

Impulsively, she whirled around and threw her arms around his neck. It took Luciano a few seconds before he realized she was crying; she was sobbing gently, quivering in his embrace.

"Duchessa, Duchessa," he murmured, comforting her. "There's no need to cry. I'm here, you're here, we're in love, and we're going to get married."

"But, Luciano, that's just it!" Arianna's voice was hoarse with sobs. "I know you love the Duchessa of Bellezza, but what about me?"

"Arianna, they are the same. Always you, all of you. Always my Arianna forever."

The two were silent; then Luciano led the Duchessa inside.


	2. Chapter 2

The Second Installment

Rodolpho and Silvia were waiting tensely at window, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the young couple without seeming overly obtrusive. It was virtually impossible.

"My dear, you must try to calm down," the man ordered his wife. "I trust them not to do anything stupid, and her guard is out there somewh–" He gripped her arm.

"Oh, Goddess, there they are! And...Arianna...what _is_ that? She looks like a bandit!"

"An angelic, beautiful bandit, mind you." Silvia remarked in as careless a tone as she could muster. "A bandit in nuptial white."

Rodolpho's face was white with strain. There were too many "ifs" in this situation. He hoped for all their sakes the rendezvous had gone less oddly than it seemed from the window niche.

Silvia caught herself biting her lower lip, a habit she'd long since broken. "Should she have said yes? She does love him, doesn't she, but still, I'm not sure. I – Rodolpho, for once, I'm not even sure what I want for her."

"My dear, he is a stravagante, and she is the Duchessa of Bellezza. They are enamored of each other, and for your purposes, it's as powerful alliance as ever there was."

"Mm," Silvia agreed, but looked away. "But how powerful is he? Stravagating has become difficult for him, or so I hear."

"Dottore Crinamorte and I are hard at work in the matter of his training."

"Yes, yes. I know, and I am quite fond of Luciano. But he will have to prove himself – the Dukes of Bellezza have been few and far between, but they have all been redoubtable figures."

Rodolpho didn't continue the argument, but he was not at all content by his wife's change of heart. _Ah, _he thought, _let her be. After all, she's only had her daughter for two years. It's not surprising she wants to keep her for herself._

oooooo section break oooooo

Arianna's spirits were high again as Luciano, firmly holding her hand, held open the wooden door and drew her inside the warm dining hall of the inn. She broke out into a smile, but noticed Luciano staring concernedly at her mother. As soon as all the eyes of their party were upon her, and hardly able to contain herself, she cleared her voice and began.

"Father, Silvia," she struggled to keep a hint of composure to hinder herself from gushing, "I would like to announce that Luciano and I are engaged to be married."

Rodolpho was first to react. To Arianna, he looked slightly dumbstruck, but altogether quite delighted.

"And we heartily approve, do we not, my dear?" Rodolpho turned and gave her mother a significant look.

Silvia seemed on the verge of saying something else, but caught herself and replied (in as warm a tone as she could muster), "Of course we do. Yes, we're thrilled."

Back in Torrone, her relatives would have fallen on her with hugs and kisses, inquiring about the date, the dress, and how it had happened, proudly boasting how long they had known he was bound to ask any time now...but here, although her father seemed approving enough, clapping his future son-in-law and ex-apprentice on the back, her mother looked cold and distressed. Arianna recognized from experience the distinct look of wanting to be somewhere else, but being obligated by courtesy to remain. To her rising anger, she could see nothing but that expression spreading and deepening on Silvia's countenance. Determined not to let her mother ruin this wonderful night, she decidedly ignored the ex-Duchessa and instead turned to stare up at Luciano.

"Well, Luciano, how long do we have before you must get back into the cart? We're still in the outskirts of Giglia, you know."

Suddenly, the engagement stress was put off and Rodolpho offered to help re-pack Luciano with the statue of Arianna. "After the next stop, you can ride with us," he reassured the boy as the cart prepared to leave. "And, Luciano–"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations. And thank you."

Franco cracked his whip and rode off into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

The Third Installment

Rodolpho was not at all pleased with his wife.

"Silvia! I'm ashamed of you. Arianna was walking on water, and you made no effort to complement – or even go along with– her happiness. You ruined her night."

Silvia, avoiding his stern gaze, pretended to stare over the rail of their room's balcony at the meadows they had ridden through. "No matter what I do or say, they're still engaged. Look, Rodolpho, I like Luciano. He's an honest young man and I believe he will be good to our Arianna. I don't know what came over me. I suppose I just felt, well, you know, overprotective."

Rodolpho strode towards his wife and held her in his arms.

"It's alright, Silvia. Just promise me you'll put a better face on tommorow."

ooooooooooooosection breakooooooooooooooooo

In keeping with Rodolpho's promise, Luciano joined the Bellezzan royal party as soon as they passed through the last di Chimici-controlled outpost. Silvia was so obviously trying to be optimistic that Luciano had to concentrate on trouncing his disbelieving laughter.

It irked him a little that the one person keeping him apart from his love was a woman whose life he had saved. It wasn't as though there was much she had to keep them from doing – it was, after all, the 16th century– but Arianna's vitality and animated charm (that he had been looking forward to enjoying, now that the barrier between them was gone) was noticeably subdued by her mother's obvious disfavor.

But, seeing the effort on Silvia's part, and for the sake of his impending marriage, Luciano internally shrugged and made the best of it.

Luciano and Arianna were sustained by the fleeting moments when they could be alone. Every night, escorted (halfway) by a guard to ensure impeccable decency, they would wander the grounds of whatever inn or gracious home offered them hospitality. Occasionally they would walk in silence, drinking in the pleasure of each other's company. Other times, they would speak, of their wedding, and then, their future together.

Sitting her down on a large stone, Luciano jestingly (to hide his nervousness) asked his Arianna what she intended to do about their children.

"Well, of course," she replied confidently, "I've already got it all planned out."

"Do tell me the agenda," he inquired, less casually than he meant to.

"I didn't exactly mean it that way...I just meant I know the names of the first few." Arianna's violet eyes were shyly averted. "First, we'll have a little girl– she'll probably be the next Duchessa. I was thinking she could be Luciana, or Lucia, or even Lucetta – I think you see what I'm getting at." She smiled coyly.

"Next, we would have twins, strong-headed, a boy and a girl. The boy would be Rodolpho, and the girl would probably be–"

"Vittoria," Luciano cut in. "The girl will be Vittoria, for my mother."

"Yes," Arianna repeated the name, rolling the "r" lyrically off her tongue. "Vittoria. That will be a lovely name for her. She will be a girl as musical as her name." Her whole face relaxed, and the corners of her mouth curled up.

"Right." Arianna shook herself out of her dreamy daze. "And after Rodolpho and Vittoria, there will be another boy, a daredevil. I thought perhaps Gaetano, because of all he's done... you know, especially with regard to duelling..."

Luciano nodded his approval. "So that's already four...how far does your list go?"

"Only to the sixth. The next two are both girls. The elder will be Sophia, a graceful, witty, girl, and the younger will be Giulia, exorbitant and vivacious.

"By then, we'll have more people we owe names to and the rest of our children will be their namesakes."

Luciano whistled. "Sounds perfect. I'm glad you've taken care of the entire department. I take it you've arranged their marriages already, as well?"

Arianna assumed a look of mock horror. "How could we do that until after we know what they're like? Imagine if I had been promised to Duke Niccolo at birth."

"He was married back then."

"Yes, well, suppose anyway." They both shuddered as the thought actually sank in.

"Duchessa?" The guard's deep, Padavian accent cut through the gardens they had made their way into.

"Coming!" She shouted back.

Arianna hopped off the rock, brushed her lips against Luciano's, and ran towards the voice, tying on her mask with practiced ease. Luciano followed, a few steps behind.

oooooooooooosection breakooooooooooooooooo

Arianna had passed the little fountain where she and Luciano had left her guard, and he was nowhere to be seen. It was not uncommon for her escorts to roam a bit, but here, it was too quiet. Her own breathing seemed magnified by the silence.

As she made to extract her merlino blade, two rough hands grabbed her and pulled her to the ground. She struggled to face her attacker, and she screamed when she recognized his face. He made no further attempt to hurt her, but kept a steely grip on her hands, pinning them behind her back. He clumsily bound her wrists and held a cloth up to her face.

_This is it, _she thought, _I'm going to die. I'm going to suffocate and die._

Then, everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

The Fourth Installment

The spy rubbed his hands together. Now all he had to do was wait. Judging from all he had heard, it wouldn't be long.

But before he could continue this train of thought, he found himself pinned against a tree, two strong arms holding a wicked-looking blade to his neck.

"So, Enrico," The young Bellezzan spat out the name as if it was as filthy as its bearer. "We meet again."

Enrico had been in these situations before. He wasn't exactly scared, more impressed that the boy's speed and stealth had increased so rapidly. "You've gotten better at this. A year ago, I could have spotted you anywhere from a mile away. Now, you know, I barely knew you were coming."

Luciano ignored his dithering. "You reek."

The spy sighed. "That's beside the point. Now, if I were you, I would let me go so we could have a nice, amiable chat."

"Why shouldn't I kill you this minute?"

"Because I have news that could save your marriage. And believe me, that matters to me. With all my heart."

It was getting hard to follow this stream of seemingly random speech. Luciano released his left hand from the dagger, and keeping his right firmly pressing the merlino blade against Enrico's neck, walked from behind the tree to face his captive.

"Prove to me that the Duchessa is alive, and then I will let you speak."

Enrico thought this was fair. "Your lady love, and her guard, are most certainly alive. Drugged asleep, yes, but dead, no. I wouldn't dream of killing them. Well, her."

"Of course not," Luciano said sarcastically. "You want to be known as the hero who overthrew the head of Talia's most dangerous house, not just a diabolical murderer of powerful people."

"Exactly. You learn quite fast."

"So, why are you here?"

Enrico started recalling the speech he had prepared. "Well, first of all, I want to say "congratulations" and "you're welcome."

Luciano scowled. "Oh, yes, I do have a lot to thank you for."

"Yes, actually, you do. I'm so glad you see that. I assume you know as much about the duel as I do, and I won't remind you of who I would be congratulating and being thanked by if things had gone as planned."

"Go on. I find it hard to believe that you came all the way here and attacked the Duchessa just to give me these warm regards."

The spy smiled his unctuous grin. "Ah, yes. Speaking of the Duchessa, I'll get to the point. You should know that I only drugged Arianna because I didn't think she'd like what I'm about to say," he began. Enrico's tone became conversational. "You know, she's a fetching little thing. Hope that baby Luciabella won't be coming too long before the wedding– could ruin the ambience, you know?"

The blade, which had gone a little lax in the last few exchanges, went rigid against his throat. "You will be respectful when speaking of her," Luciano snarled. "And you shouldn't be expecting that baby until about nine months after the wedding."

Enrico looked sympathetic. "You two haven't...? My condolences."

This was infuriating the boy. Enrico was having fun – he was the one with the dagger on an important blood vessel, but Luciano was the one sweating and seething; he was caught in one of Enrico's well-practiced traps.

"Anyways," he continued pleasantly, "You should know that if you keep going on the route your carriage is taking, there won't be any baby, now or later. There's a group of di Chimici loyalists lying in wait for you at the next stop, and they're not taking hostages. I would suggest that you take the trade road that cuts through the Market of Cellaria. You come out about five miles ahead of them and from there, the roads are safe."

Luciano's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Give me one reason to suspect that we aren't just walking into death trap."

The spy rolled his eyes and continued in an exasperated and faux-patient tone, "I'm telling you, I need you and Arianna and your little Lucetta alive. You won't know why for a while, but don't you worry your pretty little heads about that. I'd swear it in blood, if you wanted me too, but look. You live your life, and please just follow my advice and let me live mine. Everything will come out the better for it. Oh – I do believe your escort is waking up. Fine job he did, wasn't it? And I think I'll just be going now–"

Luciano had no intention of letting this happen, but when he heard a very Duchessa-like groan he sheathed the dagger and ran towards the voice.

Enrico, on his spindly legs, sprinted off in the other direction. "Good luck! And don't forget the trade path!"

ooooooooosection breakooooooooo

_That was bizarre, _thought Luciano. _"But somehow, I believe him. Goddess knows why." _He pushed those thoughts to the back of his head, and concentrated on helping the groggy guard pointed in the right direction and carrying Arianna, still asleep, back to the house.


	5. Chapter 5

The maid tentatively rapped on the door and entered. She attempted a clumsy curtsy.

"Cavaliere, Signore, she won't respond. I've tried everything – hot washcloth, cold washcloth, herbs, garlic, music–"

"This is ridiculous!" Luciano yelled. "We can't lose her to incompetence. She will wake up, I know it. But she needs proper care. Please–" he turned to Rodolpho with an imploring look on his face. "Let me stay with her. I think the answer lies in the future – my old time. I...I need to stravagate. And afterwards, I can keep vigil."

Rodolpho could see that the boy would not be stopped. "Yes, Luciano. Do what you must. I have faith in you – please don't try anything dangerous." Addressing the maid in a kindlier tone, he added, "Get some rest. You deserve it."

The girl nodded frantically and scrambled out of the room. Luciano took a deep breath and walked into the chamber in which the Duchessa slumbered.

oooooooooosection breakoooooooooo

She was smiling. Even in her condition – unconscious, pale, with her hair cushioning her head, dressed in a borrowed shift – the Duchessa was beautiful. A tenderness pulsed through Luciano before the anger returned. Why Arianna? Why now? And how could it be? From the experience of navigating a little boat through the flooded monastery in Giglia, he knew that the Talians had potent drugs. But the likes of what had put out Arianna were still at least a few centuries away.

Kneeling at her bedside, he could see there was no alternative to stravagation. And despite the pain, he would do it. Slowly drawing the pressed flower that he wore around his neck from inside his shirt, he began searching for that part of his mind that would calm him and put him to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The Sixth Installment

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! This chapter is a little odd, but I hope you enjoy it. More to come, soon!

It came: the pain, that is. The searing, screeching laser was somewhere between blinding and deafening, or maybe it was both. Luciano didn't know.

_Just hold on, _he thought, grinding his teeth, choking back his tears, _and maybe you'll make it. Come on, you scum, hold on. Do it for her..."_

And then, beyond the torture, he heard a familiar voice. It was one he missed, that he had tried to forget – his mother's.

"Lu!" she called, just like she had when he was young, "Lucien, help me!"

As his head cleared, Luciano could tell he was in a passageway. It was pitch black, dotted with far away flashes of light that could only have been stars. He followed the voice, and realized he had a terrestrial body that could walk. _So, this is stravagating in slow-motion, I guess. _He paused, only to be hurried again by another urgent calling of his name. This time it continued, louder and more pressing. He broke into a trot, then a run, moving towards the sound, unseeing.

He was there. And there was light. As his eyes adjusted, Luciano saw a figure bathed in an eerie, colorless light. The silhouette was petite, and surrounded by golden particles of dust. It turned to face him, and he recognized Arianna. She was clothed in a grey robe with trailing sleeves, too fitted to be in the Talian style of the day.

"I knew you'd come," she said, in a voice just a little too sultry.

Luciano was not taken in. He narrowed his eyes. "What are you?"

The woman in Arianna's form came one step closer. "Luciano, it's me! Your Duchessa. Your love."

"No," Luciano said slowly. "No, you aren't." The guise was playing tricks with his mind, surely.

The lady disappeared, and re-emerged behind him. As he whirled around, she put her arms around his neck, and laughed softly. "But what does it matter? Luciano, be mine. I've waited so long, and now, the time is right. It would have been too early before, and in a day it will be too late."

"This is sorcery," Luciano snarled, as he tried to extricate himself from her embrace. He found that her delicate arms were locked like steel and gave up his futile resistance.

"Yes indeed, my sweet. And what better method to make a perfect universe?" Releasing him, and pacing around him in a circle, she began to speak.

"You see, Luciano, my dear, the worlds have at long last aligned. No – stay there," she had seen him start to back away, and at once he was rooted firmly to the ground. "You and I are very much alike. More so than you believe – but how could you believe? You don't even know my name!" She let out a crystal laugh.

"That's not important. What is important is that we have a chance now that will not be ours again for eons. Maybe forever. So, Luciano, be mine. For you, I can be anyone..."

Now, as she walked, she morphed from shape to shape, showing Luciano his mother, Arianna, Georgia, Francesca di Chimici, Audrey Hepburn, Queen Elizabeth I, the lead singer of that band that had just gotten big when he had died, the Pussycat Dolls, or whatever they were called, any remotely attractive female he would recognize.

In a flash, she (again in Arianna's form) was a hair's breadth away from him, breathing into his ear.

"Luciano, think of the good it would do. For everyone. Just insignificant things – there are so many inventions that your new world could use a little prematurely. Indoor plumbing, anesthetic, vaccines, toothpaste, cream cheese, ballpoint pens...and the people of your old world could redeem themselves in so many ways. Think of what could be prevented – the looting of the tombs of the pharaohs, the extinction of countless creatures, Mozart's tragic death, the Holocaust, the president of the United States...even, perhaps, your death, when the time comes around. Luciano, we could enter the fourth dimension! You and I, we would bring the past and the future to life."

Luciano's mind was numb, and his sweat was cold. Was this some bizarre dream? He had never imagined anything like this would happen – he had come to believe that one world's magic was another's science. _Nightmares can't hurt you, _he thought, over and over. _But this is not a nightmare! _Another part of him argued back. _Do something, before it's too late..._

"Just...come to me..." The lady brushed his cheek with her lips, and Luciano felt his face burn. He screamed, and it echoed through the cavernous passage. She tried to kiss him again, and this time he found he could use his arms. He struck out wildly, pummeling her to no avail. She loomed over him, taller and taller, enshrouding him with her presence. And as he felt himself diminishing, his spirit melting into her body, a hand firmly grasped his right wrist. The woman let out a bloodcurdling shriek, and for a moment, just a moment, she was illuminated in the immortal pallor of death, and he saw her for what she was.

Skeletal, with a powerful white face and bottomless black eyes, thin-lipped and with silver dreadlocks, visibly emitting and sucking up energy, there was no question It was an immortal.

Then, Luciano was no longer in the sky tunnel. His eyes flew open. He was next to Arianna's bed, and the real Duchessa's hand was firmly clasped in his. Luciano felt his terror turn to panic, then to trepidation, then quickly from trepidation to relief and calm. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply – when he opened them, he was standing at the gate of the Church of Christ, two blocks down from his childhood home, in London.


	7. Chapter 7

Enrico was sitting on a log. He was bored, and it looked like he was going to have a long time in which he could make trouble. After throwing rocks at some cross-eyed ducks, he had given up being useful and was just musing on the philosophy of life.

"Ennnnriccco," something rasped behind in.

He jumped to his feet, assuming a wrestler's stance.

"Ennnnriccco, it is I."

"Again? I thought I was done with you."

"You owe me more than you think, mmmy boy."

The spy grumbled. "Well, spit it out, then."

"Have no fear. By the time I need it, you will be ready to discard it."

Well, that was better than he had expected. You had to be careful around these powerful beings. Enrico found them extremely demanding. But useful, too.

"I need," the presence continued, "the child."

"Well, actually, my plans have changed a bit. You see, I have use for it too. And by the time its usefulness has diminished, it may not be available." Enrico was playing this carefully. He could see a very pleasant outcome forming in the distance.

"Oh, Ennnriccco, you would not be so cruel. If I help you to get it, can I have it?"

"Maybe. After I'm done."

"Sooooo be it," the invisible thing snapped, "be here at twilight, and I will teach and you will learn." A cold rush of air, and then Enrico knew he was alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Luciano breathed out a huge sigh of relief. As he turned to the gate, something inside him told him to pause. Slowly, he changed course and walked unsteadily to the sweet-briar and rose filled graveyard. It was an inviting and meditative area, not at all like the floating graveyard of Bellezza, that still hinted of the plague. He was inexplicably drawn to a far, shady corner, knowing what he would find.

When he reached his own grave, he knelt down and closed his eyes. Outside the high walls, a car rushed by, and a bird sang. Such normal things, and yet here he was staring at the words "Lucien Mulholland/1988-2003" etched into a stone. He knew it was not enough. Drawing his merlino dagger from his belt, he gently moved aside a fresh bouquet of white roses and carved, ever so lightly, a verse he remembered like an echo from another life:

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

and things are not what they seem.

Stepping back, he admired his handiwork, then walked briskly towards the exit without looking back.

oooooooooooooooooosection breakoooooooooooooooooooo

A short while later, Luciano found himself on the main shopping and dining boulevard of his area. His destination was the bookstore on the corner, but he gave himself some time to amble about first. Because of his odd apparel, he thought it best to use the old trick of studying the ground to be inconspicuous.

And then, there was the unmistakable glint of a metal coin. Luciano smiled as he ran to pick it up. Even after all these years away, he could still spot a one-pound coin from yards away.

It turned out to be more than one coin, and after counting out his prize Luciano realized that, as he had to spend it here, he might as well blow it on something desirable. As he had done so many times in the past, he entered the coffee shop in the region that carried peppermint ice cream.

It seemed that he had come on a quiet morning, and Luciano wasn't recognized. As he prepared to hit the street once more, a couple in a far booth caught his eye. Tiptoeing up to them, he saw them to be none other than Georgia and Nick, who had once been Falco.


	9. Chapter 9

The Ninth Installment

Georgia and Nick looked remarkably happy. Happy, and definitely more mature: Georgia was sitting in Nick's lap as they ferociously devoured a triple-sized banana split.

It was Georgia who caught sight of Luciano.

Laughing, she looked up and caught his eye, paled, blinked, and looked again. "Nick," she whispered, "look who's here."

"Luciano," Nick breathed.

The Bellezzan boy smiled awkwardly.

Georgia jumped up. "I must be high on sugar, or else I'd be a lot more surprised, but this is amazing! We have so much to catch up on. Now, come and sit with us."

Luciano, slightly phased, did as he was told. "Well, to begin with, what's going on? You two certainly look euphoric."

"We're celebrating," replied Georgia in her crisp accent (Luciano hadn't talked to any Brits in such a long time). "Nicky here just won the national fencing championships, and he's got himself a scholarship to Oxford!" She kissed him squarely.

"Oxford..." mused Luciano, "How long has it been since, you know, we were all in the same place?"

Georgia took a deep breath. "It's been three years. I took a year off to ride in Scotland, so I'm a second-year here at the local University. Nick's still a fresher, but his school was absolutely dismal, and now's he's going all the way to Oxford, where he'll probably meet some brilliant girl and forget all about me."

"Don't forget to breathe, Georgia! It's not such a big deal," Nick chimed in, modestly.

"But there's so much to say..."

Nick coughed. "So, Luciano! How have you been?"

Luciano found himself grinning stupidly. "Well, I'm getting married in a couple of months. The old Duchessa hates me for it, but it doesn't really matter, because everyone thinks she's dead."

"See where we could be, Nicky?"

"See what we couldn't do if I was still a cripple?"

"You have a fair point," Georgia conceded.

Moving on, Luciano inquired, "What have Sky and Alice been up to?"

Georgia's face darkened. "It's been months since I've seen either of them."

Nick took over. "When Sky moved to California, he and Alice decided to correspond by instant messenger and stuff, but it still wasn't enough. Alice got moody and jealous, and started writing him long, romantic letters, so he decided it might be wise to come home for a while and knock some sense into her."

Georgia snorted. "Sense...and a good couple other things, too."

Luciano raised an eyebrow. Nick inhaled deeply and leaned back in the booth, absent-mindedly drumming on the tabletop. "Right," he continued. "So, Sky comes back for his Thanksgiving break, and he and Rosalind are tiptoing circles around each other. It's totally awkward – we were both there, of course, Georgia and I – and no one can say anything. Rosalind obviously wants to know everything about college, and Sky wants to know what he's been missing out on."

Georgia signaled to the waiter that they were finished. Luciano sensed drama coming up, and fixed his eyes on some dust particles being illuminated by a sunbeam.

Nick continued. "Right. So that night, after the painful dinner, Sky decides he can't take it anymore, 'cause he really does miss Alice, and texts her to come on over. She agrees, and Georgia and I thought everything was well and good and made a subtle exit." Here, he interrupted himself. "Er, Georgia, you finish. You tell this part better anyway."

Georgia took up the story. "Alice drives up to the house." She broke off, and explained, "We heard about this the next day, by the way. From both of them." She cleared her throat. "So Alice raps on the door, and Sky comes out, and he kisses her, and it's a perfect, passionate, happy-ending sort of moment. Then, they fumble their way to the garden, and who do they see, but Rosalind and Alice's dad doing it on the stone bench. Alice and her dad were equally furious. Rosalind didn't know what to say. Alice went back to California with Sky, and we haven't seen her since."

Luciano's eyes were as big as saucers. "But...how come...didn't they see each other leave home?"

Nick scoffed. "Alice and her dad weren't on very good terms as it was. He sold her favorite horse, or something."

Shaking his head, Luciano wondered over how times had changed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Georgia and Nick were having similar reactions. After another moment's hesitation, he steered their minds away. "Well, then. Let's change the subject."


End file.
